Some Words of Advice Based on My Own Mistakes, Weird Situation and Other Things for Dating Challenged, or
Chapter Nine

by Rajkhet Dirzhud-Rashid
photo by Taylor Maxwell photography www.imaxwell.net
Model: Jacqueline Hyde

Taking a break from worrying over money flow - hey, Bush, it is a recession, stupid - I started considering some of the dating stories some of my straight friends and tarot clients had been telling me lately. This brought me to two conclusions. One, I’m glad I’m bi, and two, I’m glad I belong to a sex positive club, where, though I have to pay to get in (read: pay to have sex), I still don’t have to worry about some of the gaffes I used to deal with. Nothing like walking the walk of a top to make you have the confidence to size up a potential mate, find them lacking and walk away. Beats them dumping you, too.

So, I went back over my “little blue book” of naughty memories for some of my more scintillating and weird encounters. There was the time I got this “survey call” from some guy who started out doing what seemed like a legitimate interview, then it turned into me asking him if he was masturbating, him saying yes, and me playing along. Hey, I’ve got a quirky sense of humor and love a little adventure on the phone. So, after yet another of these “sessions” on the phone, (with me joining in the solo gratification on my end of the phone), I met the guy, and while driving on the street - me in these little shorts I’d bought at some boutique that’s out of business now - we groped each other to distraction. But I decided that something about his vibe bothered me, so instead of going to his place, we ended up in this wooded area across from these very posh homes (him on the bottom, me on top) doing “the nasty”. Actually attempting, because his equipment wouldn’t cooperate. Long story short, no satisfaction, a lot of finger stuff (which only made me sore), and him getting bitten by a spider. I also got a lot of mud on my little, white, lacy shorts.

On a more positive note, there was the time I was “in the throes” with this hot Chinese guy (that was during my Asian period). For no reason that we could figure out, the fire alarm went off.  Really, in the whole apartment, all over his building. I could even hear folks clamoring outside the door, probably freaking out, until the damned thing stopped. We giggled like children and eventually resumed activities. It made me feel pretty danged hot, for sure. Almost as hot as after a particularly pleasing orgasm, in which I yelled loud enough to get the attention of everyone in my building. I heard the sound of hands clapping and noted that a small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk below my building and were obviously enthused by my performance. Yay, me! So, all of this and a few other interesting encounters got me thinking about my own dating days (which are still going on, just not as frequently and not with this much excitement). There are things I’d advise my straight friends to go for and to not go for. Such as, when a friend and client told me about a date that lasted an hour, and that her date showed up on a Vespa, I cried foul and advised her to never see this cad again. I mean, dudes, if you’re gonna take a girl out on a bike, it damned well better be a Harley or at least a decent Suzuki or maybe even a Honda. We all deserve the best first date we can have. Also, do not, not shave off the charges from whatever your date ate from the bill, and definitely not in sight of her best friend. This did happen to yours truly. Needless to say, this guy is so history now. Oh, and no matter how you like or don’t like your date on first sight, don’t just dump her on sight and fly the coop, never to be heard from again.  Yep, happened to me, a couple of times. Here’s my favorite pet peeve of all. Do not, NOT expect the oral experience of your life if you haven’t done some simple hygiene care, like wash like your mama did when you were a little one. Smelly doesn’t equal a good experience, be you straight, dyke or whatever. Trust me, being Bi, I’ve experienced bad smells from both men and women, and not liked it. I do keep or not keep based on smell.

So, whether you’re shooting diaphragms across the room from your hoo hoo (like I did once, when trying to take care of birth control issues - thus my using the pill now), or trying to not make noise when you’re having a kick ass orgasm, and he has a roommate who’s trying to sleep (yes, this happened too), have some elan. After all, you might decide to marry that person, as I did after meeting ex-husband number one in a bar, and after a night of bliss, decided to move into his place the next day. This, I shamelessly tell you.